


This Kissing Thing

by clare009



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Caryl, F/M, First Kiss, Romance, carylbyobfanfictionchallenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-16
Updated: 2014-11-16
Packaged: 2018-02-25 15:39:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2627084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clare009/pseuds/clare009
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was the last thing Carol expected. Perhaps she should have seen it coming, but she'd been preoccupied.</p>
            </blockquote>





	This Kissing Thing

It was the last thing Carol expected. Perhaps she should have seen it coming, but she'd been preoccupied. Fighting for survival and recovering from injuries was more than enough to keep her focused on other things. 

They'd found a secure location to hole up in and regroup, a walled off housing estate that kept the walkers out and, they discovered, would be ripe for the pickings once they'd cleared it out. 

When they'd secured a base, Sasha helped her splint her arm and imobolize it due to a possible fracture, and really that was the worst of her injuries, even though the cuts and bruises Carol sported said otherwise. But she'd become numb to the physical aches, and she could still take out a walker with her left, even though Daryl insisted she not put herself in any unnecessary danger. 

The hard part was taking care of some of the more personal things. The following morning, after a dreamless sleep that may have had something to do with the bottle of painkillers Sasha had slipped to her, Maggie had so graciously heated up a pail of water and brought it to her room, along with soap and a rag she could use to wash with. Carol almost cried with gratitude, but the girl hadn't stuck around, and she was left trying to manipulate the buttons on her shirt one handed. 

By the time she'd got the damn thing off, the water was starting to cool. She didn't even bother to lose her bra, but tears of frustration were slipping down her cheeks as she tried to use the soap and rag to scrub the dirt and blood from her body. Every inch of her was raw, every muscle and tendon hurt, and her head pounded. She eye'd the bottle on her nightstand once more, wondering if she should take another dose. She didn't hear the knock, nor the turn of the doorknob and the creak of the door. Someone cleared a throat behind her. 

"Carol?"

Her head flew up. Daryl was standing in the doorway. His face still held that haunted look, the very same one that was burned into her mind when he'd witnessed her being run over by the car, just two days prior. 

"Shit. Sorry, didn't know you were--"

"Wait." She halted him as he was about to bolt out the door. He paused and turned back to her, but kept his eyes focused on the ground. "Could you help me? I think I've done about as much as I can manage, but I need some help getting into a clean shirt. I found one in the bureau that looks like it would fit."

"Do you want me to find Maggie or someone?"

"Just get over here. I'm in no shape for seduction, if that's what you're worried about."

Daryl snorted. "Fine."

He entered the room and picked the clean shirt off the bed. It was a men's shirt made of soft pinstripe cotton. She could tell Daryl wasn't exactly comfortable with her request, but if she was being completely honest, she hated the thought of one of the others seeing the wreck that was her body. At least with Daryl, there'd be no pity in his eyes. 

Daryl sat beside her on the bed and helped her manoeuvre an arm through one sleeve. 

"What about this?" He pointed at her bandaged arm. 

"Oh, you'll have to cut the sleeve so I can fit it through. Use my knife."

He nodded and grabbed her knife from the nightstand, sending the bottle of meds skittering to the floor. 

"Crap." Daryl scrambled to pick up the bottle and set it rights on the table. After a couple of jagged strokes with the knife, he'd ripped the sleeve from shoulder to cuff. He was all business as he gently slid the sleeve up over her arm, then tied it so it wouldn't flop at her side. Then he began to matter of factly do up the buttons. 

His knuckles brushed the edge of her breast and Carol drew in a swift breath. Daryl froze. 

"Sorry. Did I hurt you?"

She shook her head. Her skin had pricked into gooseflesh and she became aware of how close he was to her. After everything they'd gone through, all that they'd shared and unburdened to each other, he'd somehow become the other side to her coin, someone who was integral to her being. But this was something different. This sudden warmth that suffused her and eclipsed her aching body. And when she lifted her eyes, she focused on his lips and found herself wanting to see what they would taste like. 

"You okay?"

His tone was low and soothing. He spoke to her in a way that was only reserved for her. She watched his tongue dart out to lick his lips and his chest rose and fell as if he'd just been running. 

"Carol?"

She'd loved him for so long and so dearly now, that she couldn't go back to a time when he was not standing right next to her. But there was love, and then there was this sudden need that she'd never experienced before. Oh, she could talk a big game, but when it came down to it, her blood had never run hot before. Now, his lips just inches away, and his knuckles hovering over her skin where they'd grazed her, and his smell, god his smell--metallic and musky--had started a fire that spread out from her core and rolled from the top of her head to the tips of her fingers and her toes. Her lips tingled with it. 

She listed forward without knowing she was doing so. Daryl remained still as stone, his eyes watching her with a wary concern. Carol drew in a deep breath through her nose, and the knowledge that she was going to kiss him came to her just a split second before she brushed her lips over his.

The touch sparked through her, and she pressed forward, angling her mouth to deepen the kiss and spur him into action.

But Daryl didn't move. 

It took forever for her brain to unscramble the signals and tell her to pull back. When she did, the fire had been doused with ice and the look on his face felt like a punch in the gut. 

He opened his mouth like fish, trying to get words out, but he couldn't form them, so instead, he shook his head and then bolted from the room. 

Carol blinked. She touched her fingers to her lips that still burned. And then reality fell around her and she crumpled back onto the bed. 

The recriminations came, and then the guilt, but after that she was left mostly with a sense of loss that ached beneath her chest. 

She would go to him, beg forgiveness for being so presumptuous and swear that nothing like it would ever happen again. She had to, because she couldn't lose him, especially not like this. But before she could force herself into the action, the physical pain she was in translated to exhaustion. She grabbed the bottle of painkillers and dry swallowed a couple. Before long, the narcotic took over and sleep consumed her.

***

After he'd fled from her room, Daryl did the only thing he could think of. He grabbed his crossbow, and with a mumbled, "goin' hunting" to Rick as he blew out of the front door, he hit the ground at a jog. 

Chances of him finding anything so close to a once suburban area were slim, but even a few squirrels, or a rabbit, if he was in luck, would be good. There was a copse of trees not too far from the estate, and that's where he headed. 

When he hunted, he slipped into a mindset that drowned out all thought, and brought his focus to the task at hand. He could feel the direction of the breeze against his skin and pinpoint the softest crack of a branch. Every muscle in his body was under his complete control as he crept silently through the brush, crossbow at the ready and vision narrowed to the point of his target. 

But today, he couldn't shake the feeling of her lips against his. His control was tenuous at best, and his skin itched. He stomped through the trees for a good couple of hours, sending all critters running for shelter before he could even take aim. A squirrel scampered past him, and he sunk an arrow into a tree, missing his prey. Daryl yanked the offending projectile out of its missed mark and sank to the ground below, defeated. 

Carol had kissed him, and he'd been paralyzed. And like a idiot, he'd gone and bolted at the first opportunity.

He groaned into his hands. He'd been waiting for her to do that, and more, for so damn long, that he'd given up thinking she'd ever come to him. There'd even been times, at night at the prison, when he'd tried to relieve his frustrations with his own hand. He'd jacked off to the thought of her riding him or sucking his dick, and as soon as he'd spilled over his fingers, he'd be wracked with guilt at using her like that, even if it was only in his head. She was more important to him that just a quick fuck. 

He'd put those thoughts out of his head, told himself that they weren't important--not near as important as the way she smiled at him, or the way her eyes lit up when she saw him walking up the hill. 

He'd lost her twice in the last few weeks, and just to have her back, safe and mostly whole, he could live the rest of his life with whatever she was willing to give him. But when she'd pressed her mouth to his, all those old feelings of lust had been let loose. He couldn't trust himself not to hurt her, so he'd done nothing, and then he'd run.

The look on her face before he'd split told him he'd hurt her anyway.

He'd have to go back. Tell her he was sorry for being such an asswipe. Tell her… tell her what she meant to him, if he could figure out the words that could describe it. 

Daryl dragged himself from the ground and took himself back to the estate. Hunting would have to wait. 

He entered her room quietly once more when she didn't respond to the knock. His nerves may have been a jangled mess, but he was ready to say his bit, whatever he needed to, to bring her back to him. However, one step towards the bed and he knew she was fast asleep. 

Daryl couldn't help smiling at the sight of her curled up against the pillow. She thought she was so hard, now, but he could still see the softness in her. From the curve of her jaw to the slope of her shoulder and the round flare of her hip. She was tough as nails, but in the right moment, she could still be gentle as a doe.

He sat down next to her and put his fingers on her hip, tracing the curve. Her eyes flew open, and she gasped. 

"Shit. Didn't mean to wake you."

She blinked to get accustomed to the light streaming in from the window. "How long have you been gone?"

"About two hours."

Her eyes flicked up to his face, then danced away. "Daryl, look, I'm sorry about what I did earlier. It was a stupid thing to do."

He felt as if a cold hand took hold of his heart. She continued to babble on about how she shouldn't have kissed him, how she'd never looked at him like that before, and she'd lost her mind for a second, but she promised she'd never do it again, and she really cared about him, so much, his friendship was more important to her than anything else, she couldn't lose that, would he forget it ever happened?

"Stop."

Her tumble of words halted, and she blinked in surprise. 

With a shaking hand, he raised his fingers to her cheek. Her skin was so damn smooth, like a peach. 

He cleared his throat and said, "I wanna… I want you to do that… to try that again."

Her lips parted as she drew in a breath. "Are you sure?"

All he could do was nod his head, then he helped her to sit up, and licked his lips as he waited for her to make the move. 

Her mouth quirked into a smile as her hand cupped his jaw. Daryl shut his eyes against the sensation. Then he felt her lips press softly against his. All the tension he'd held bunched up inside slowly began to unravel, and as she held herself there, waiting for him, he tentatively pushed against her. 

She opened her mouth with a sigh. Her tongue darted against his lips, warm and wet, and he swallowed. He was so damn hungry for her, but he held himself back. He wanted her all at once, but he also wanted her to set the pace. 

As her tongue became more insistent, he let her in, and groaned at the taste of her inside his mouth. He tried to angle his head to let her deepen the kiss, but their noses clashed. 

"Shit. Sorry," he breathed out. 

She latched back onto his lips so fast, he didn't have time to feel embarrassed. 

Soon they got the angle right, and navigated around teeth to find the perfect dance of lips and tongues. Her hand wound around his neck and pulled him close, while his finally found a place to settle on her hips. 

The kiss became more urgent, and Daryl felt a burgeoning problem in his pants. The awareness surged through him and he pushed her back onto the bed. 

Her hiss of pain made him freeze. 

He scrambled off of her and winced when he saw her cradle her injured arm. 

"Sorry," he said. "I guess I got carried away."

She shook her head. "We both did. I probably shouldn't be doing anything too, um, physical." Her mouth quirked into a smirk. 

Daryl felt himself flush. He covered his face with his hand. "I wasn't thinking."

"Can't say I was, either. But…" Her hand crept over and folded into his. "I liked it."

Her words created a warmth inside him that had nothing to do with lust. He glanced at her out the corner of his eyes. "Yeah?"

"This kissing thing. It's, um, nice. With you. I like it." 

He nodded. "With you."

"And maybe, when I'm not so brittle, more than kissing?" She winced a little as she spoke, but Daryl answered her with a grin. 

"I wouldn't mind."

She nodded. "Good."

"Good."

Her hand tugged his, and she pulled him to stretch out alongside her. He kicked off his boots, so as not to get mud on the bedding, then found a comfortable spot for his hands on her hips, taking care not disturb her arm. She reached for him, and this time their mouths met more easily, as if they'd been doing this kissing thing all along.

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little something for the CarylBYOB fanfiction Challenge, although the link to the 'bottle' prompt is tenuous at best.


End file.
